I am so perplexed as to why there seem to be newer (female? queer?) fans of The Avengers who don't think Steed and Mrs. Peel are sleeping together? What do you think is going on there, then?
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Bird identification is so fucked up in a really fun way you can’t understand until you get into it. For example, there is a type of goose called the cackling goose that looks exactly like a Canada goose except smaller and “cuter”. The cackling goose is way, way, more rare in most places than its relatively common cousin, so it’s on tons of birders life lists. Everyone wants to see a cackling (look in any bird ID group to see lots of hopeful people posting petite Canada geese). The two species regularly commingle, so sometimes a flock of those common parking lot birds will have the equivalent of a Pokémon shiny just hanging out in the middle of them.
How ridiculous and fun is that? I can never look at a big group of Canada geese without scrutinizing their ranks for an adorable little extremely rare cutie pie cackling goose. It reminds me a bit of mushroom harvesting minus the risk of death if you get it wrong
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had the honor of painting the cover for @aasiblingszine! I put a lot of love and detail into this one ^_^
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i will never forgive popular UT fanon for using chara as a scapegoat in the genocide run and making "sans recognizes them and attacks them on sight regardless of what run they're in" headcanons so pervasive.
mostly because "restless spirit of a long dead child who's obsessed with the concept of cosmic retribution and facing consequences for your actions" + "guy whose job is just that but he treats it on par with his hot dog sidegig" is potentially one of the most hysterical dynamics you could come up with
UPDATE: you should REALLY check out the notes on this one
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gansey: you all are truly interested in my glendower quest, aren’t you??
his gang, consisting solely of people who are dying to date him: yeah. totally.
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Something that made hygiene-related things easier to do was to say "fuck it" to the concept of doing the thing at the Right time. My teeth do not understand that it is currently 02:00 or 15:00 and they're getting brushed. The skin on my face doesn't hold up a timepiece and say, "why haven't you washed me, twelve hours have elapsed and you haven't bothered to wash me!".
As someone who has had very intense experiences with my ability to do things at the Right time, throwing out those rules has been a game-changer. I used to shame myself because I didn't do something at the Right Time, so I just didn't do it, which would make me feel even worse. That's not a healthy way to go about anything. Accommodate for yourself. Throw out those rules.
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Prompt 198
Now Bruce was not expecting to reincarnate upon his death. At least he thinks he died, he’s pretty sure he did. There wasn’t any other reason for him to be a well, literal baby. Around two he thinks, which fits well with the fact that it’s around that time that babies start forming memory recall, if he, well, remembered correctly.
But while he knew about reincarnation thanks to Shayera and Carter, he’d never exactly given it much thought towards himself. Because seriously, what were the chances of such a thing as him being given another chance?
So he was quite surprised at his situation, experimentally opening and closing pudgy hands that looked well, just a tiny bit off. He’d never been that pale before, he thinks, even back when he never went outside like, ever.
He turned his gaze towards the mobile above him with a sort of idle curiosity- a mixture of bats (ha) and other trinkets he wasn’t familiar with. It also caused him to get his first good look at his parent, asleep on a rocking chair right next to the crib.
Huh. They had the same pale skin he did, albeit in the light it looked like it was slightly tinted blue, and while their hair was white they didn’t exactly look old. They looked surprisingly well rested for raising a toddler too, unless they had a nanny or something similar… He rolled over, managing to very shakily push himself to his feet with the help of the crib.
Why was standing so hard as a toddler? And why did he have his memories of everything except how he had died anyway?
His head whipped up from where they were staring at his feet when he heard a snort, finding his parent awake and standing. Somehow silently enough that he hadn’t noticed- or he was that easily distracted by the unfamiliar giddiness bursting in his chest.
“Morning little bat,” his parent easily picked him up and held him while he inwardly sighed at the nickname. Of course his bat motif would follow him into this life. A low rumbling almost caused him to jump, his body relaxing before he could fully register the sound. The… purring?
Oh.
He wasn’t human this time around.
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